


Sanctified

by annabeth



Series: Under the Golden Sea [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blasphemy, Christmas Gift Fic, Clergy kink, Father Vitya, M/M, Omorashi, Smut, Watersports, abuse of religious symbolism, seriously so much blasphemy omg, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 05:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/annabeth
Summary: "Bless me, Father, with your holy water," Yuuri says, tipping his head back and presenting his bare chest.





	Sanctified

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phayte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/gifts).



> I couldn't help myself. This is for Phayte, for Christmas--yes, I wrote Viktuuri too! And I borrowed the idea of Father Vitya, and added a dash of watersports... hopefully you enjoy ♥
> 
> I also stole a stylistic writing technique from [Blownwish](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish), I hope she doesn't mind!
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS, PHAYTE! ~~and happy birthday again~~

"Bless me, Father, with your holy water," Yuuri says, tipping his head back and presenting his bare chest. He closes his eyes so he can't see Father Vitya's face, because if he looks on all that beauty at once while this is happening, he might expire.

But Father Vitya is having none of that.

"Open your eyes, my son," he says in that low, velvety smooth voice, the one that makes Yuuri shiver and get impossibly harder in his pants. He opens his eyes. Father Vitya is more like a Greek god than a priest, and his insatiable appetites for Yuuri are more like a satyr's than a obedient, _celibate_ priest—but then maybe that's _why_.

Why Yuuri can't get enough. Why Vitya is so amenable to fucking him. Or maybe it's like Vitya says… that it's _Yuuri_ who causes him to break his vows without a second thought.

Those gorgeous blue-green eyes are focused on him. Maybe some people would've been staring at Yuuri's slightly rounded, soft belly, or his bare pecs, but Father Vitya is so _pure_ ; he's only gazing into Yuuri's eyes.

Yuuri has the briefest moment of pause, hands going to his belly, hovering there until Vitya says, so sexy,

"No. Don't hide from me, my son. I would like to see all of you." Vitya bends at the waist to cup Yuuri's chin, tilting his face to the side a bit. He smiles, his white, even teeth flashing. Yuuri's never been so conscious of his own teeth, slightly crooked, or the fact that Vitya is positively _> ripped_ for a priest…

"Father," he says softly, "why did you become a priest?" Because isn't that the question?

But Yuuri continues to kneel at the front of the altar, Vitya standing above him, handing him his rosary beads.

"None of that now, Yuuri," Vitya whispers, Yuuri's name sounding like nothing more than a sacred prayer on his lips. Like the mouth that shaped it has canonized him simply by saying his name like that—Yuuri shivers and it isn't because he's cold; no, he's burning up and the only thing that can cool him is Father Vitya's holy water.

Yuuri takes the rosary.

"Please pray with me," Vitya says next. He folds his hands as if in prayer—except he has one hand on each side of his bare cock, sticking out of his robes. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost." He makes the sign of the cross on Yuuri's forehead, anointing him with nothing more substantial than his love, but Yuuri knows that Father Vitya's love is as bountiful as that of Christ's. He feels more blessed by that than by his Holy Father, and he feels guilty.

"Shh, my son," Father Vitya says, combing his bangs back. He can always tell when Yuuri feels guilty. "There is nothing for you to be ashamed of. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Father," Yuuri says. He fingers the beads on the rosary, beginning his prayers, as he lowers his eyes demurely. But that soft touch on his chin is back, directing his gaze up.

"I'd like it if you watched me," Father Vitya says, almost shy himself. But Yuuri doesn't know why that would be the case—the man is gorgeous, kind, and always has a free moment for Yuuri—or any other parishioner—and he's way out of Yuuri's league. He's admired him from afar since he joined the parish a few years ago, and never in a million years did he imagine he'd be here, now, ready to receive his blessing.

"I have sinned, Father," Yuuri says, fingers still moving nimbly over the rosary. He presses it to the center of his chest as he prays. "Only your holy water and forgiveness can absolve me."

"I will give you anything you ask, my son," Father Vitya says. Yuuri's staring into those eyes when it happens: the first few droplets on his chest, one of them landing and then hanging, heavily, from his knuckle. He glances down, quick, so quick, at Father Vitya's cock, which is hard, impressively so, and beautifully flushed.

Yuuri's eyes flick back up to Vitya's, and he watches him blink, then covets his mouth, with its firm, perfect contours.

_Hail Mary, full of grace_

Father Vitya makes him work for his forgiveness; liquid splashes onto Yuuri's chest, running down along the cuts of his muscles to pool on the softness of his belly, hot against his flesh. But the stream cuts off quickly, until Yuuri's panting into the humid air, wishing desperately for _more_.

_the Lord is with thee_

Another short spurt falls like a warm rain onto Yuuri's skin. He breathes in the scent of it, and feels it caressing him as it drips down his chest. It's so warm, so earthy, so much of the essence of _Vitya_. Only this can cleanse him.

_Blessed art thou amongst women_

Yuuri's fingers are sliding off the beads, slippery with the warm yellow liquid that is running down onto his pants and slowly seeping through until it heats his cock, making him throb so _hard_ , repeatedly, against his boxer briefs. Vitya isn't done. The next time the stream is more prolonged, a strong jet soaking Yuuri from the hollow of his throat down.

_and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

Yuuri doesn't know how Vitya has such an iron control over his release, but in between each spurt, Yuuri feels himself flush and his free hand creeps down to rest over top of his erection tenting out his pants. He waits to be scolded—sometimes Father Vitya doesn't want him to touch himself too soon—but there's no chastisement, no castigation, so Yuuri cups himself more firmly.

_Holy Mary, Mother of God_

The stream is longer, lusty, as Vitya groans at the feelings of relief it must be engendering in him. Yuuri moves faster through the beads of his rosary, sensing the end is nearing, and rubs himself through his clothes as he shivers and trembles beneath the wonder of Vitya's blessing.

_pray for us sinners, now_

Yuuri comes with a shout when Vitya directs his aim lower, to bathe Yuuri's hand and cock with his holy piss and that's really all it takes; but still, Vitya isn't done. Yuuri finishes up his prayers.

_and at the hour of our death_

Father Vitya isn't stopping this time, and Yuuri loops the rosary around his wrist and reaches up, stroking Vitya's cock as he pisses without reservation or control now, drenching Yuuri in it, covering him and making Yuuri feel as though he's taking a shower in holy water, cleansed and refreshed.

_Amen._

Vitya finishes up, and Yuuri surges up from his kneel, till he's on his knees but high enough to reach Vitya's cock. He wipes the droplets onto his robes, then opens his mouth. The touch of his tongue to that superheated flesh makes Vitya moan and suddenly clutch at his hair.

His hips snap forward and Yuuri works him with his tongue and the suction of his mouth until Vitya's mumbling his name underneath his breath. His hand tightens in Yuuri's hair, and Yuuri cups his balls, rolling them in his hand as he slowly slides that steel-hard flesh from his mouth before taking it all back in, relaxing his throat and swallowing around the head.

He murmurs words that no one could understand because his mouth is full, but the vibrations make Father Vitya tremble beneath his hands. Yuuri loves making him feel like this—making him feel pleasure in return for all the pleasure he gives Yuuri. Vitya rakes his fingernails against Yuuri's scalp, almost hard enough to hurt, as Yuuri sucks him down, licking around the shaft until Vitya shatters and fills his mouth with a different kind of bitter fluid.

Yuuri pulls off.

"In the name of the Father…" Vitya repeats.

"And of the Son, and the Holy Spirit," Yuuri finishes, making the sign of the cross against his chest. His fingers come away still wet. Vitya leans down and pulls him up, and into a kiss.

And even though they are standing in a puddle in a middle of a deserted, darkened church but for the candles Vitya's lit on the altar, Yuuri feels forgiven. Blessed.

Sanctified.

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://helm-puppet-trash.tumblr.com)!


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